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A couple of hours later, Delores Matters was briskly walking up the stairs to the bedroom. She carried a large bowl of water and several towels. Inside the room was her mother and her son, sitting on a small chaise in the corner. Lying in the bed was her husband, with a cloth wrapped around his sore melon. A small red spot stained the bandage just above his forehead. He had been thoroughly washed and placed in dry bedclothes, all by Delores, with her mother assisting a little before the smell made her break out in hives.
Harv's wife sat down next to him and softly placed a cool, wet towel along his brow.
"Oh, dear," she said, "I hope I didn't kill him."
Her mother looked over and replied, "Naw, he's head is hard as week-old bread...and pro'bly twice as moldy."
Delores faintly smiled, ignoring the remark and choosing to think only good thoughts. The accident wasn't entirely her fault -- she was simply trying to wake her husband up after his fall from the window. She grabbed the wash bucket by the bed and thought it was the quickest possible means toward reviving him. How was she to know that the handle was faulty and caused the object to accidentally slide from her fingers?
Her thoughts were interrupted by a bell downstairs. Turning quickly, she looked to the stairs and muttered, "I should've locked the door. Mother, watch Harv-2, and tend to my husband, please...call me if he wakes up." She handed the wet cloth over, and after straightening herself up a bit, ran briskly down the stairs. "Coming!" she yelled.
Harv and Delores had owned the small shop for over three years. It started out as a general store of sorts, but over time, Harv had begun to sell more and more animal skins, leather goods, and stuffed pets. He was a very good taxidermist, though the art form itself was still a young one and the necessary supplies were hard to come by. His specialty was little nature-oriented dioramas and mounted heads. He had been working exceptionally hard lately, as he had just received a special order of several African antelope skulls. He was anxious to have them mounted and to see how much he could obtain for such rare and unusual artifacts.
"Skin Matters," was the name of the shop and the sign above the door had a faded and chipped painting of a flayed rabbit skin. Business was steady, what with gamblers and traders always frequenting the city, and there were many who would trade their entire wardrobe for a few pieces of silver to spend on a night of debauchery at one of the local sporting-goods stores.
When she entered the curtains that separated the shop from the rest of the living quarters, she saw two rather odd fellows — odd-looking because they didn't appear like they had cut someone's throat the night before. Even though their clothes were a bit dirty, they were not dressed in a sinister fashion, though they did both have their hoods up.
"Yes," she smiled, "How may I help you?"
"Well, we have a few pelts that we thought we might be able to sell or trade." The taller man said. He opened a large pouch and laid several skins upon the counter. The smaller man did likewise.
She gave the assorted items a good look-over and grimaced. "Well, the truth is, we don't have much use for rabbit skins...this boar hide is worth a little." Then, Delores noticed something. She held up one of the pelts that had been sewn together in a rather unusual pattern.
"Are these a pair of furry shorts?" she asked.
Oldsmobill smiled. His teeth were perfect and white — an unusual feature in these parts. He spoke softly, with just a hint of authority in his voice. "Well, we were in a bit of a desperate situation at one time."
"Hmmm...I bet," she slightly frowned. "This stitching though, it's a 'double-helix-cross-over." She looked up again at the taller man, a blonde frock of hair peeked out from under his hood. "Did you get this from a monk?"
Oldsmobill raised his eyebrows a bit. "No, I stitched that myself."
"Interesting..." she replied. "Tell you what, I can give you five pieces of silver for the whole lot."
He looked over at Johann who was busy staring at a stuffed beaver on a shelf near the door. The little Timbrookian lifted his upper lip and made his face mimic the beaver's and made little 'cha-cha' sounds.
Delores added: "Or a half-cask of spiced rum, whichever you prefer."
Olds turned to her and smiled. "We'll take the silver."
As Delores packed away the skins and dug a small bag of coins from a pocket on her vest, Olds looked round the shop. On the walls were all types of skins and animal heads. Some were fashioned into helmets and vests. A few swords and axes hung upon the walls, as well as an assortment of small bucklers and shields. Several stuffed animals were displayed in the window and in an area by the counter.
"Where'd you get those boots?" Delores abruptly asked, "Or did you make those as well?"
"No, these were a gift."
"They are very nice," she replied, while laying the silver pieces on the counter. As he approached, she leaned forward a little and whispered, "Y'know, though... they don't go with the rest of your outfit..."
He quietly picked up the money. When it was in his pocket, he replied, with a sly grin: "They once did."
Delores smiled back. "You two, you're new here, right?"
Johann, at that point, accidentally knocked over a large, stuffed bear carcass, which also tipped over a bronze shield and sent it crashing to the floor. The metal disc continued to slowly spin and reverberate loudly upon the wooden boards for nearly a minute and a half. Olds waited until it was finally quiet again, but just when he was about to speak, he heard Johann meekly whisper: "Heh...sorry."
Delores sarcastically declared: "I'll take that as a yes." She smiled in a friendly, if somewhat detached, way at the two men.
Johann began picking up the bear display and the shield and continued to apologize for his clumsiness. "It's these damned soggy shoes!" he gasped.
Olds glanced back at Delores and noticed that her soft chin was slightly raised and her eyelids partially lowered, giving her a somewhat dignified expression. She seemed to be quite strong and confident. Her eyes were a bright blue and seemed to sparkle with quiet intensity, and even though she wasn't wearing any type of makeup, there was a natural beauty in the contours and composition of her face that made Olds want to keep looking at it.
"Yes," he abruptly stated, and she turned her attention back to him, "my friend here is from Timbrook, and I am from Allegoria. We've come here looking for work."
"Well, if I may offer you a bit of advice," Delores said, "Be careful." She leaned her head to the side a little and raised an eyebrow, while slightly motioning her finger towards the floor. "Especially with those rather extravagant boots."
"Thank you, madam. We will try our best." Oldsmobill beamed and bowed a bit. "It has been a pleasure," he said, and with that, he and Johann left the shop. He turned to smile again at her as he closed the door behind him, but she was busy laying the pelts upon a small table by the counter and didn't look up.
After a few seconds, Delores heard the little bell above the door ring again and she lifted her head and watched the two men make their way down the steps in front of the shop and up the road. She glanced over at the small rabbit-fur vest and its unusual stitching, before glancing back out the window. She felt vaguely intrigued by the mysterious stranger and his somewhat clumsy and silent friend, but she didn't quite know why.
She unexpectedly heard her mother call out and she ran to the door, locked it tight, put up the "closed" sign, and ran as fast as she could up the stairs.
ns 15.158.61.6da2
